


Better or Right

by Sarah_M



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Deals with the possibility of non-con, Episode: s07e08 Space Race, Episode: s07e11-12 Evolution, Episode: s07e13 Grace, Episode: s07e16 Death Knell, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Season/Series 07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-11 18:43:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15321831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah_M/pseuds/Sarah_M
Summary: "Carter, why don’t you enlighten us on where exactly you’ve been and what exactly you’ve been doing?”Trying to ascertain what it is he wants her to say, she takes a moment first to read his eyes. “I’ve been with you almost the entire time sir.”The visible tension in his body tells her that his emotions are still firmly fixed in pissed off mode. “Well, obviously not.”Clearly something isn’t right.





	1. Mindless

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so first off I just want give a heads up that this story deals with the possibility of non-con/rape having occurred. There are no graphic scenes with regards to that, in fact it's not the direction that I intend to take this series in at all. However, I want to flag the issue now so that if the subject matter is too sensitive for you, you can choose not to read on.
> 
> This is part one of a three part series. Hopefully they should be able to be read as stand-alone so if this part isn't something you feel can read, then (once they're done) you can skip right along.
> 
> An endless thank you to my beta who helped me along the way - especially in helping to tone everything down a notch so that I could get to the lighter ending that I was aiming for. Hopefully it works.
> 
> Good to go? Proceed ahead.

When Sam re-enters the Danthiams’ stately city hall, with its grand architecture, glamorous pillars and dark wooden furnishings, she is baffled by the bustle and commotion that wasn’t present a few hours before.

“What’s going on?”

Momentarily she wonders if she is reliving that reoccurring high school nightmare where she forgot to put her clothes on, because everyone in the room is suddenly staring at her. Clothing? Check.

“Carter!” the Colonel starts towards her with a stern face, along with Daniel and Teal’c who seem thankful to see her.

“Sam, where have you been?” Daniel asks nearing her with the rest of the team.

“More like, where the hell have you been?” Her CO’s expression seems to be made up of a fine balance between seriously pissed and deeply relieved.

She frowns at him. What’s with the attitude? How did he beat her back here anyway? Turning she glances behind her - pointless though since he’s standing in front of her now and clearly not still re-tying his laces on the hall steps.

Casting her eyes around the room and then between the three of them she states what should be the obvious, “Taking a tour of the city, same as you guys… though I feel like maybe I’m missing something more interesting here?”

Daniel starts, “Sam, you’ve been missing for almost two hours - we’ve been looking all over the city for you. The council have sent out search parties-”

“Why the hell haven’t you answered your radio, Major?” Jack interrupts. He is looking less relieved and seems to be slighting more towards just plain old pissed than he was a few seconds ago.

Frowning she looks to him genuinely perplexed, but before she can answer him the chancellor approaches them, “Major Carter! I see you have been located safely - as I had expected.” His worried manner betrays the confidence in his voice.

The locals here aren’t on an industrial level too dissimilar to our own. They certainly have something to offer Earth on the technological front, but it’s clear that the advancement incentives go both ways. They’ve been keen to keep things moving along with their diplomatic talks since SG-1 arrived in the place of SG-3 this morning.

“Carter!” Jack all but barks at her.

“My radio is on sir and with all due respect; I have no idea what’s going on here.”

The chancellor has the good grace to bow out of the conversation quickly - clearly uncomfortable with the change in tone. “Well, I’m certainly pleased you’re back. I’ll speak to my advisers and let them know you have now returned.” He smiles tightly and steps away.

“Thank you for your help - it’s appreciated of course.” Daniel adds quickly - ever the diplomat.

“Carter, why don’t you enlighten us on where exactly you’ve been and what exactly you’ve been doing?”

Trying to ascertain what it is he wants her to say, she takes a moment first to read his eyes. “I’ve been with you almost the entire time sir.”

The visible tension in his body tells her that his emotions are still firmly fixed in pissed off mode.

“Well, obviously not.”

“We’ve been touring the city for the past few hours. You checked in with Daniel and Teal’c twice on the radio. I don’t even know how you made it back inside the hall before me - you were just tying your boots outside.” There’s a surety in her voice because she’s certain it’s true.

Daniel’s frown deepens impossibly. “Sam, Jack has been here with Teal’c and I the whole time. Nathaniel took you on a tour of the science precinct. He lost sight of you and we’ve been searching for you ever since.”

Clearly something isn’t right.

“Colonel, can I please talk to you alone for a moment?” she asks tersely.

He has become silent, assessing her story and manner.

Daniel and Teal’c watch on worried as he wordlessly walks with her towards what seems like the only discreet place left in the immediate area - near the rest room facilities.

“You have something to share, Major?”

“Is this a cover you’ve come up with? Because I’m not really getting it.”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“I’ve been with you the whole time.”

“Carter, I’m telling you; you haven’t.”

Shaking her head at him in disbelief she adds, “If this is some kind of post coital brush off it’s got to be the most elaborate I’ve ever experienced.”

“Post… excuse me?” His eyebrows shoot up.

Lowering her voice she looks at him pointedly, “I’ve _been with you_ the whole time.”

His face falls and he stares at her blankly. “Sam. I’ve been here. I’m not lying to you.”

Something is very wrong here and the odds are stacking up quickly against her.

Her eyes widen a little and he can tell she’s holding onto a breath she should be exhaling right now.

They stand there staring at each other, both unsure of what to say next.

“Tell me _exactly_ what happened.” There’s an edge of nervousness to his firm but quiet voice.

Swallowing the lump that’s quickly forming in her throat, she notices her breathing rapidly progress from paused to double speed. “We were touring the city with Nathaniel before you suggested to him that we go off on our own - which we did. You radioed Daniel and Teal’c to let them know. We wandered around, explored the area…” she hesitates, her eyes shifting away unable to meet his. “Then we stumbled into an extravagant building, some kind of hotel, it was incredible and we… we got carried away… and it just sort of happened…” her voice trails off because he’s shaking his head minutely, unease clear in his eyes.

When he opens his mouth to say something, nothing comes out - he just shakes his head again.

Sam’s mouth slackens a little and she lets out a shaky breath as her eyes dart around in rapid in thought. “Okay…” She needs to keep breathing. “Okay…” Another breath. “Okay, so if I wasn’t with you, then… then who the hell did I just sleep with?”

His whole body visibly tightens as he clenches his jaw and his eyes steel at her. “We need to get you home. Right now.”

Her eyes widen at him and the panic that she’s been trying desperately to push down washes over her in a heavy all-consuming wave at his words, “I just… I need to…” She can feel her eyes stinging with the threat of tears while her breathing comes out in ragged little huffs. “I think I’m going to vomit.”

Jack grabs her arm to steady her, maybe reassure her, but she yanks it free and hurls herself into the restrooms beside them. Before he has a chance to turn the handle and follow, he hears the lock on the door latch shut.

“Carter.”

The sound of her dry retching reverberates through the door.

“Sam.”

Running water joins the sound.

“Let me in.”

Sam learns heavily against the sink, a cold sweat covering every inch of her skin as she looks up at herself in the mirror.

She can hear him through the door, but she doesn’t want to listen to him right now, because everything in her head has turned completely upside down. Nothing is making any sense, she feels dizzy and hazy. A minute, that’s all she needs, just a minute.

“Sam? You shouldn’t…” She hears his voice falter, “Don’t wash anything.”

Her eyes fall closed and she presses them tightly shut, fighting against another wave of nausea.

Don’t _wash anything_? Jesus.

She scrunches her face, suddenly thoughtful. Actually, now that she’s thinking about it, she doesn’t _feel anything_ and she should. They hadn’t used protection and as far as she knows (which apparently isn’t a lot) they didn’t exactly have a chance to really clean up well afterwards - it was frantic and rushed, they had to get back here. She glances downwards. If she’d just been somehow tricked, possibly raped, why aren’t _any_ of the details lining up? What the hell happened to her?

“Carter, open the damn door.” He’s knocking loudly now, which has gained the confused looks of both Daniel and Teal’c who are back with the chancellor - presumably smoothing things over. Thankfully the bustling crowd in the room has just about dispersed.

Swinging the door open violently, she steps out abruptly in front of him, “There’s nothing inside me.”

The look he gives her tells her he really doesn’t need any clarification.

Trying to regain some control of his flaring emotions, he closes his eyes and for a moment he wonders if he’s going to have trouble holding his stomach too. “That doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

“I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“Neither do I - which is why we have to get you home straight away.”

“You think I need a rape kit. If I was just assaulted, then why aren’t any of the basic details making any sense? And I don’t just mean _the who_.”

“You need to do it anyway.”

“And what exactly am I going to tell them?” she says brusquely, suddenly angry - furious even. “That I have a very vivid memory of spending the afternoon having illicit and entirely consensual sex with my CO while on-duty off-world, but according to him and everyone else I’m wrong?”

He rubs his hand over his face once and looks away.

“Didn’t think that far ahead did you?” It’s not his fault and she’s not sure why she’s so angry with him.

“ _No_ \- but obviously _not that,_ ” he says defensively his anger mirroring her own.

A strangled sob escapes her lips and she wonders if she’s really going to break down in front of him and all these other people. She doesn’t want that, she’d rather be angry - hold onto the angry.

Jack looks around the room, scrubbing his hand through his hair. He just needs to _think_ for a second but his heart is hammering away in his chest, anxiety flooding through his veins and the sound of his quickened pulse is unusually loud in his ears. Willing himself to try to relax, he breathes heavily through his nose and lets the wheels in his brain churn.

Turning back to her seriously his voice is low and slow, as if he is explaining something to her carefully, “You were on a guided tour of the city with Nathaniel. You lost sight of him. You don’t really remember what happened or where you were - your memory is confused and you’re feeling off. When I asked you about it, you admitted to having some very _vague_ , very _non-descript_ flashes of having sex. It’s concerning - so you need to get checked over.”

The tears she so desperately wanted to hold back can no longer be contained and the salty wetness rolls down her cheeks as she listens to him explain what’s most likely going to have to be her cover story.

“It’s all fuzzy and the details are non-existent,” he says firmly.

Sam closes her eyes again - her treacherous body openly weeping in front of him. How did this all get so screwed up so fast?

“Please, _please_ let me take you home. _Now_.”

“Okay,” she can’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

Sam sees Daniel and Teal’c break away from their conversation with the chancellor and head over to them.

“Is everything alright?” Daniel asks looking between them.

“Fine,” Sam quickly swipes at her face with her hands. She imagines they both probably think he has just chewed her out.

“Major Carter, are you unwell?” Teal’c asks gently.

Sam looks at imaginary spot on Jack’s boots and doesn’t answer.

“Carter’s feeling off. She doesn’t remember what’s happened, she’s confused and feeling sick, so I’m going to take her back to the base to get checked over.”

“Yeah, she said she was with you… which isn’t right…” Daniel studies them both.

Jack is silent for a beat before he gives Daniel a no-nonsense look, “You’re going to forget that she said that and you’re not going to mention it again.”

At some point she supposes her teammates will find out why they’re in such a rush to get back to the base. In the meantime the last thing they need is for them to mention to anyone that really when she returned she wasn’t confused at all - insistent in fact that she had perfect clarity of spending the afternoon with her CO, right down to his boot laces. It’s probably best not to leave room for anyone to make any leaps between why she needs to get to the infirmary and her thinking she spent that time with her commanding officer. Things would go to hell in a hand basket fairly quickly.

“Jack?”

“Daniel.”

“I don’t understand. If there’s something more going on here, then you need to be telling us, not keeping us in the dark.”

“No, what I need right now is for the two of you to find out where she was and if there’s something that would explain what just happened - why her memory is confused. Ask questions - lots of questions.”

“Has something been done to you?” Teal’c asks her directly.

“It’s all very vague, very non-descript, Teal’c,” she mirrors Jack’s previous words to the letter. “Maybe someone drugged me, I don’t know, I’m guessing - nothing is making much sense right now.” Sam looks up at him her eyes a little red and then she turns her attention to Daniel. “And the Colonel’s not wrong; don’t mention what I said before. Keep it to yourself.”

They stand there mutely; an air of tension surrounding them all.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Daniel asks again, his voice above a whisper.

“Yes.” No.

“Do as you’re told for once Daniel,” he’s short with him. “And check in every hour,” he orders, looking to Teal’c for confirmation that they have an understanding.

The inclination of Teal’c’s head tells him they do.

*

When they’re back at the SGC she quickly finds herself heading towards the infirmary, Jack in tow - insisting he be the one to escort her down.

This is so awkward. There’s a big part of her that wants him to hurry up and go meet with the General like he was told so she can be humiliated and distressed on her own, but there’s another part of her that is unrelentingly grateful.

Janet greets her with the warmth of an utter professional. “Thank you Colonel, I’ll take it from here.” She nods at Jack dismissing him - he doesn’t budge. “I’ll let you know once we’re done, but until then, if you think I’m going to let you stand outside the curtain, you better think again.”

Jack gives her a dark look, “Of course not.”

Sam hasn’t met his eyes since they arrived home, maybe before that, but he offers anyway, “I’ll be with the General if you need me.”

“Thank you,” her voice unusually soft.

Janet leads her to one of the private rooms. So much for a curtain - that must have been to scare the Colonel off.

When the exam is over and Janet tells her that there’s no sign of trauma, sexual assault or any obvious indicators of consensual intercourse, the relief is wholly overwhelming. She stops tensing and relaxes back into the pillows, exhaling out a series of deep cleansing breaths as she allows herself to let go of this particular nightmare of a scenario.

It doesn’t explain what has happened to her, but ten minutes ago she wasn’t sure of anything and now at least she can be sure of this.

“Look, I’ve swabbed everything to be 100% sure and then I’m doing a full blood panel, a CT scan for your brain and a full body MRI to see if we can find something else that might give us some answers.”

*

The General leans forward in his office chair, elbows on the desk, resting his weight on them as he looks pensively at his 2IC.

“You okay son?”

“Yes sir, I’m fine.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t Jack.”

“It might not be anything.” Jack’s pretty sure he’s just externalising his inner mantra.

“I certainly hope so,” he agrees definitively. “I take it you’re still comfortable leaving the other half of your team with the Danthiam’s?”

“Sir, I find it hard to believe this is a big conspiracy by them all - we’ve not run into a single problem between SG-3 and SG-7. Something is going on, but I don’t think it’s collusion. They were quick to help us and seemed genuinely concerned. Plus, they want this treaty as much as we do. I don’t think Daniel and Teal’c are in any danger. I asked them both to do some digging - see what they can find. And with your permission sir, I’d like to return once we hear back from Fraiser.”

The General nods at his assessment. “Okay Colonel.”

The phone rings and both turn to it with a start. Jack looks between it and the General anxiously as he watches him pick the handset up from its cradle.

“Hammond.”

Time is relative; or so Carter keeps telling him. The fifteen seconds it takes for Hammond to take the call feels like it lasts a lot longer that it probably does.

“Okay, thank you Doctor.”

The General puts the phone back down and Jack’s eyebrows shoot up in question.

“No signs of sexual assault or anything else of that nature.”

Jack releases a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and sags back in the chair.

“My sentiments precisely,” Hammond breathes out leaning back. “I’ve known Jacob Carter a long time and I can tell you that’s not a conversation I ever want to have to have with him.”

Jack blanches at the thought. “No sir.”

“Though, there’s still no explanation for the memory loss and confusion, and we aren’t any closer to knowing what happened to her during the two hours she was missing. Doctor Fraiser is running several tests.”

Jack simply nods, still relishing in the good news before he lets himself move onto the next problem.

“I know you’re keen to head off world again Jack, but you might want to wait around until after all the other test results.”

“Sir?”

“That’s a Carter in that infirmary son; they’re as stubborn as they come. She’s going to want to get to the bottom of this as much as you do.”

He huffs out a dry laugh, “If it’s fine with the doc, then it’s fine with me.”

*

In the end they don’t have to wait for the tests results to come back. Daniel and Teal’c beat them to it by their second check in.

“We believe we may have found the reason for Major Carter’s condition,” Teal’c informs via the MALP transmission.

“Yeah, we think you guys should get back here if you can?” Daniel voice resounds.

“Is there anything more you can tell us now Doctor Jackson?” Hammond asks.

“Honestly General, they’re kind of keeping it close to their chest. We do know Sam never left the science precinct or more accurately their technology refinement centre. Whatever happened, we’re told it was in a restricted area of the building. They’re happy to disclose it to us, but not without being behind some closed doors first if you know what I mean,” Daniel explains.

“I believe your relatable terminology would be that it is classified,” Teal’c concludes.

“Understood Teal’c, Doctor Jackson. Hammond out.”

The transmission is cut and Hammond looks over at Jack. “Go check with Doctor Fraiser, if the Major is up for a trip back to the planet, then get yourselves geared up and ready to move out in thirty minutes.”

“Yes sir.”

No need to be told twice.

*

The infirmary is busy with two SG teams’ post mission check-ups, which Jack thinks is a good thing. He’s hoping to pander to Janet’s busy schedule and the need for a spare bed.

Sam looks bored, her legs dangling off the edge of the infirmary bed, notably back in her BDU’s. Bored is good - he would much rather her be bored than distressed.

Catching Janet’s attention he explains why he’d like to bust her out and take her back to the planet.

“I don’t have the MRI results back yet,” Janet says hesitating.

“You said yourself that her bloods and CT came up clear. Dollars to donuts the MRI turns up the same result,” Jack counters.

“Janet please. I can’t do anything from here and I feel fine, really,” Sam pleads, anxious to finally get some answers.

“Daniel says whatever happened it was in the ‘technology refinement centre’,” he fingers with air quotes for effect. “And when it comes to technology; Carter’s key.”

“I’m the one with the memory loss; maybe it’ll come back to me once I’m there…”

“What she said,” Jack agrees quickly.

Janet looks between the two of them, considering. “Okay, fine. However, if you feel anything out of the ordinary I want you back here straight away; no exceptions.”

Sam puts her hands up in surrender. “Absolutely, I promise.”

“And your team doesn’t leave your side,” she adds.

“No argument there,” Jack says dryly.

“Alright - _go_ \- good luck,” Janet says waving them off. Clearly she’s not impressed.

Sam is up in a flash, mouthing a ‘thank you’ to her.

Janet shakes her head but smiles anyway.

*

“First of all, I would like to sincerely apologise if this has in anyway caused you any kind of concern. It was never our intention to expose you to this technology,” the chancellor tells them as he walks with one of his associates and SG-1 through the doors of restricted area of the technology refinement centre.

The corridors are long and white with what one could only assume are doors to laboratories scattered along either side.

Sam looks around studiously hoping the scenery will start to ring a bell, but so far nothing is bringing up any instant memories.

When guided through one of the doors on the right, they’re confronted with a lab not much bigger than her own filled with equipment and small gadgets along with a single occupant.

“Hey,” Sam frowns at the man standing behind the bench in the centre of the room, “I know you…”

The man ducks his head.

“This is one of our scientists - Goren - and you are correct, as it turns out you have met before,” the chancellor admits disappointed. “However, he was acting on his own and without our knowledge,” he’s quick to add.

The Colonel gives the scientist a menacing look. “And what is it that Goren here did?”

“I exposed her to a technology I have been researching for the past several months. I hoped it would yield a different result compared all the other data I have collected.”

There isn’t even the slightest hint of remorse in his voice, and Jack wonders if it would be okay to shoot him now.

“What is the purpose of this technology?” Teal’c asks, looking about as pleased with this man as Jack is.

The chancellor sighs, “In all honestly we don’t really know. We didn’t create it, we discovered it. Despite all the research, so far the only thing we have to show for it is that it seems to display to the user something that they want.”

“Something they want?” Daniel parrots.

Still frowning, Sam glares at Goren, “A gift; that’s what you called it. You said you wanted to give me a gift…”

Goren gives her a cynical smile. “It usually is,” he affirms. “The user simply touches the device and it induces a trance like state, which depicts a very realistic vision or scenario that the user desires. It could be anything. The transition is seamless with reality on every account.”

“Ideally, we’d like to use the technology to either alter the vision to something we could choose while mirroring the seamless entry and exit of the illusion,” the chancellor discloses.

“Espionage?” Jack questions.

The chancellor gives a half-hearted shrug, “Good intuition Colonel. Yes, it’s one working theory here. You might be more pleased to know that other scientists are seeking its use for potential medical therapy. Regardless, we’ve not succeeded either way.”

“Major Carter would not have given you permission to do this, how did you lure her here?” Teal’c demands, edging intimidatingly closer to the desk.

“Easy - I didn’t _lure_ her. You’re making me sound like a predator! She was lost - I offered to help… and then it occurred to me that it was a good opportunity to test to technology on someone with a potentially different physiology…”

All three of her team take a threatening step forward towards the man.

“I didn’t _hurt her_ or _touch her_. I just took some basic readings while she was out. Honestly, she should have been having a great time - I don’t know why everyone is so upset.”

“I’m going to break your face,” Sam spits out making a move for him.

He startles and looks to the chancellor for help and then back to her. “You’re a scientist right? You must understand how enticing it would be to add a variation to an experiment after this long! Memory loss and confusion - that would be the first time anyone has reported this occurrence - a new result! That’s exciting!” He pleads as she rounds the table to get to him.

“You don’t need your fingers in the next six to eight weeks do you? I was only going to break your nose, but now I’m enticed by the idea of adding a variation that might yield a different result.”

“That’s exciting,” Jack finishes for her.

“Please Major, Colonel,” the chancellor interrupts, “I understand your anger and frustration - I really do. Goren will be punished I assure you. I’d prefer to solve this diplomatically instead of resorting to violence.”

Jack releases a long huff of air considering his options, “Carter, stop.” The order is completely void of enthusiasm, it’s clear he doesn’t mean it. The idea of watching his second pummel this putz sounds like a very soothing end to this day. “Sorry, I guess I’m not feeling it today. Daniel? Teal’c?”

Teal’c says nothing, but he raises an eyebrow as he looks to Daniel.

“Why do I have to be the bad guy? I’m okay with her hurting him,” Daniel complains and then sighs. “Okay, come on Sam. Let’s take a walk.” He rounds the bench to get to her side of the mexican standoff and grasps her shoulders from behind as he guides her towards the lab door. She’s reluctant; shooting daggers at Goren the entire way out to the corridor.

Jack can see she’s tearing him a new one with her eyes. This moron has no idea what he put her through today.

The door closes and she still stares darkly at the spot through the wall where Goren is likely still standing.

“You’re angry and hurt, I get it.” Daniel says leaning his shoulder against the wall.

“Do you?” Sam asks eyes still fixed on the door.

“Yes, I do.”

Sam breaks her gaze and as her eyes meet his she immediately sees that he really does get it. The pieces of the puzzle probably all fell into place the moment the device was explained - he’s clever like that. Her expression softens, her eyes turning defeated.

“You don’t have memory loss or confusion. The device worked perfectly on you; you were with Jack.”

She hesitates, wishing she didn’t even have to say it, “You can’t say anything.”

Daniel frowns, “Why would I say anything? Teal’c and I have never said anything - ever.”

Gratitude fills her and she hopes he can read it in her eyes.

“It’s been an awful day Daniel,” she says exhaling softly, “For a bit there I thought maybe I’d been… that someone had…”

She can almost see the gears turning in his head behind his caring eyes, as if he is filling in the last of the gaps; the reason behind their quick exit after her initial return.

“I’m okay though,” she assures him quickly.

“Are you sure?” his blue eyes filled with concern.

“Yeah, actually now I’m just … mortified. How can I even look at him? I’m so embarrassed.”

“Who Jack? Please it’s _him_ we’re talking about - there’s no way that you haven’t seriously stroked his ego with this - he’ll have a huge head about it for sure.”

The corners of her mouth quirk upward in a faint smile.

“So… were you really going to chase that guy around the table?”

“Absolutely.”

“That would have been fun to watch.”

This time her smile reaches her eyes.

*

The knock on her front door just before seven in the evening surprises her. If it’s the pizza delivery guy for her neighbour again she’s not feeling in the mood to be polite about it for the fifth time. Closing her book, she uncurls from her sofa and drags herself to the door.

When she opens it to find the Colonel standing there in his civvies she has to fight the urge to tilt her head back in frustration. All she wanted was a quiet night at home to wallow in her humiliation some more - was that too much to ask?

“Oh don’t look so excited see me, Carter,” his voice flat but teasing.

It’s scary how well this man can read her sometimes.

“Is there something I can do for you sir?” she sighs, avoiding his eyes while still holding the door between her and the entrance to her home. Hint.

“You can be polite and let me in so I can talk to you?” he suggests with whimsy.

“I’m very busy…”

“Yes, very busy avoiding me at all costs the entire week. It’s hard work; you must be just exhausted.” His tone is light hearted and a smirk plays on his lips. “Come on, let me in Carter, we need to talk about this and sort it out,” he says resolutely.

She meets his eyes; charming as always. Damn him. Stepping slightly to the side she opens the door a little wider to allow him to brush past.

“Eye contact? We’re making progress already.”

She so badly wants to roll her eyes at him, but it’s clear that he’s in the mood to poke fun at her if she does and she doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Instead she ignores the comment and heads towards the kitchen.

Hands in his pockets he follows her, a few paces behind, giving her space.

Pulling the fridge open she takes out two beers, wordlessly holding one out in offer to him.

“Trying to ply me with alcohol Carter? That’s-”

“I’m not ready to joke about this,” she cuts him off.

He presses his lips together and gives a slight nod, taking the beer from her outstretched hand. “Okay. That’s a shame though; it’s really my better angle.”

“I know.” She pops the lid off her bottle and takes a swig, resting herself against the bench.

He opens his and takes a drink, toying with the lid in one hand as he moves to lean back against the island counter opposite her.

“You can’t avoid me at work forever you know, it’s a practical impossibility.”

“I just need some space.”

“I know and I have been happy to give it to you but it has to stop at some point. Which means; I have to come here and apologise to you so we can move forward.”

“Apologise?”

“Yes,” he confirms distracting his gaze with the metallic lid in his hands, “I handled it badly - on the planet - I panicked,” the admission falls softly from his lips.

She doesn’t know what to say to that.

Not looking up he keeps rolling the jagged lid over in his fingers, “It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve let my feelings for you get in the way of being professional. And I’m sorry I couldn’t be that for you. Also, I’m pretty sure I sucked at being a friend too - which means that despite everything I couldn’t actually be good at either of those things in that scenario, so I’m sorry for that too.”

She watches him awkwardly distracting himself with the beer cap, surprised by his honesty and the regret in his voice.

“You don’t need to apologise.”

He looks up and locks eyes with her. “I was seriously scared for you. I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Her expression is open, her eyes disarming and filled with emotion.

They don’t talk like this with each other, _ever_. It’s starting to make her nervous.

He must sense it too because he leaves it at that. He shifts to put the bottle cap on the bench behind him - like he has finished needing that vice now - and his tone changes as he moves on. “Look, I know you’re feeling embarrassed about, you know, the _other stuff_ but you really shouldn’t.” He takes another drink.

“Embarrassed?” her voice heightens, “Sounds like you’ve been talking to Daniel.”

He gives her a grin, “Maybe, but don’t tell him that I gave him up. He means well.”

“God, you get a few drinks in that guy and he spills like a fountain.” She takes a few long sips of her beer.

“Doesn’t he ever... but really, _don’t be_.”

“Why, because you’re flattered?” Where did that come from?

His answer is immediate. “Because had our positions been reversed there’s a very good chance I would have been in exact same desire boat as you, Sam.”

She chokes on her drink and she feels the burn of bubbles in her nose.

He smiles, watching her splutter at his words. “The only difference is that now I know you have a fantasy about getting it on in a flashy hotel. Which I think is very tame by the way - nothing to be embarrassed about in the slightest.”

“Please stop talking,” she manages to get out.

“And, I have come up with the perfect solution to our problem. You want to stop being embarrassed about me knowing, then what I can do for you is level the playing field.”

She regains control of herself and gives him an almost terrified deer in the head lights look, “Do I even want to know where you’re going with this?”

“I know one of your fantasies, so I’m going to tell you one of mine.”

Holy Hannah. This cannot be happening.

“I don’t see how that’s a solution,” she says, eyes still wide.

How can he be so calm about this?

“Sure it is. I’ve picked one that will give a good return for you.”

“One? How many are there? No, wait, don’t answer that.”

He does anyway.

“There are _lots_ \- the list goes on and on.”

“Oh God.”

He’s enjoying this.

“So, it goes like this…” Completely at ease he practically settles himself in - as if this is going to be a long and intricate tale (it better not be) - and she covers her mouth with her hand in shock and mortification for him and what he’s about to do _for her_ , “I walk into your lab and you look sexy, all super focused, working hard on some doohickie techno-gizmo thing that you’ve spent ages on - and that’s very important by the way -”

“That I’m invested in it?” she feels a nervous laugh escape as she questions for clarity from behind her hand, eyebrows arching. She wishes she had drunk a lot more of her beer for this.

“Absolutely; it means a lot to you.” He takes a step towards her. “And you look up and see me and you give me this lustful stare.” Another step closer. “And you just _sweep your desk clear_.” He makes a face and gestures his hand not holding beer like he’s clearing her lab bench. “And you knock that ridiculously important device on to the floor like it means nothing to you.”

She’s outright giggling now - catching the sound with her hand - she couldn’t stop if she tried.

He’s not deterred. “And you tell me you _need me_ and we have hot steamy sex on your desk. It’s amazing. Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“Oh and you tell me I’m big and that I’m the best you’ve ever had, but that’s neither here nor there of course,” he says nonchalantly - like it’s no big deal to tack that on the end there.

“Of course.”

Smirking at her, he enjoys the flush of her cheeks, the warmth of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” she shakes her head at him.

“Neither can I; I’m so embarrassed.”

“Uh-huh.” He _so_ is not.

His eyes are filled with absolute mischief. “Now every time I walk into your lab you’re going to know that I’m thinking about you sweeping that thing clear for me.”

“Oh my God,” she laughs again. He’s incorrigible.

“See? It’s the gift that keeps on giving.”

“Okay, you can stop now.” She has to cut him off at some point, he seems like he could do this all night and she’s not sure her nerves can take it.

There’s only one last step between them and he’s standing just far enough away to admire all of her.

“It’s good to see you smile,” he says softer, still amused, “I take it we’re going to be just fine then.”

Her eyes are searching his, a smirk still playing on her lips. “I think we’ll manage.”

“Good.”

They continue looking at each other in a way that they definitely shouldn’t be, in a dangerously flirtatious way that leads both nowhere and everywhere good.

“I’m thinking about kissing you,” he admits above a whisper. “Which is probably a bad idea.”

“I don’t know,” she unconsciously wets her lips with her tongue and adds breathily “I think it sounds like one of your better ones.”

Apparently that’s all the encouragement he needs, as he slowly moves closer, closing the remaining distance between them. His eyes don’t leave hers as he places his beer on the bench to her right and then gently pries the bottle from her fingers relieving her of it too.

Her fingers slowly move to clutch at the counter edge behind her, as one of his hands grazes her hip as if to hold her in place and the other tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear before leaving his fingers threaded through it.

His eyes search hers for any sign of uncertainty but he finds none. He watches as her eyes flutter closed and he does the same just as his lips brush over hers gently.

He kisses her softly and reverently - testing for hesitation as he swipes his tongue against her lower lip. When she chokes back the most delightful whimper it undoes him. He slips his tongue into her willing mouth as she moans into his, kissing her deeply and thoroughly and with a passion that he hasn’t felt in years.

He tastes like beer and mint and something that’s uniquely him. Butterflies flutter madly in her stomach. She can’t remember the last time she was so excited by a kiss - but it’s _him_. She’s wanted him for longer than she’d care to admit to and now he’s _kissing her_ in her kitchen and it’s _even better_ then she’d imagined.

Kissing him back heatedly, feeling suddenly desperate for more of him, her hands unclench from the bench and she slips one hand behind his back to pull him closer. The other slides up between them to curl her fingers around his neck firmly. She sure she made a noise at the feel of his skin against her palm, but he’s seems to only be encouraged by it because the hand that was in her hair joins the other on her hip and his clever fingers skim beneath her shirt to clutch and stroke at the soft skin of her sides.

She not sure if it’s the lack of oxygen or her increased levels of desire, but she can feel her hips press up against his on their own volition and she grinds once boldly against him.

He grunts against her mouth and his hands immediately find their way to her ass and he presses her firmly against him before he pulls back from her lips to swiftly lift her up onto the counter. A squeak of surprise leaves her and then her legs wrap around him instinctively and she quickly finds his mouth again.

Just as he drags the hem of her shirt upwards, ready to consider lifting it up and off - the doorbell rings.

“Oh shit,” he groans.

“It’s probably the neighbour’s pizza guy, ignore it,” she murmurs.

“No, no it’s not,” he sounds resigned.

“What did you do?” she asks suspiciously.

“I might have forgotten that I asked Daniel and Teal’c to swing by with dinner and a movie.”

“Why would you do that?”

“On the off chance that this went well and we could have a nice normal team night - I wasn’t expecting it to go _this well._ ”

Resting her forehead against his, she sighs heavily, disappointed, “You called for backup before you needed it?”

“Can’t tell you how sorry I am about that right now.”

Both of them try to catch their breath and quickly calm down from their height as he helps her slide down off the counter top.

He thumbs over her lips firmly - she looks flushed, her lips swollen delightfully from the kiss.

“I’d answer the door for you but, I’m going to need a minute,” he winces indicating downwards.

She smiles and leans up to press a kiss into his neck.

“That’s not helping,” he gazes down at her, his eyes are dark and filled with want.

She gives him a shy smile and a pining expression, before she moves out from between him and the bench and strides quickly to the entry hall. Hopefully they don’t look as obvious as she thinks they probably do.

“Hi guys,” she smiles, opening the door.

“We have brought pizza and Star Wars,” Teal’c tells her.

“Star Wars again?” she questions as she lets them through.

“Indeed. Daniel Jackson claims to not yet remember it since his return,” Teal’c says, sounding quite pleased.

“Oh, so this is your fault then?” she says quietly to Daniel as he moves past her.

He mouths a ‘sorry’ to her from behind Teal’c as they head to the kitchen.

Jack is standing at the end of the counter, beer in hand looking casual as ever. How does he do that?

“Hey,” he gestures mildly to them taking a pull of his beer.

“Everything okay?” Daniel asks him hushed, as Sam grabs more drinks from the fridge.

“Close to perfect.”

 

They eat pizza and drink like they usually would on a team night; the only difference this time is that two of them give each other heated stares and flirty smiles.

His leg presses against hers when they watch the movie - sitting a little closer together than they typically would - and every now and then their fingers touch, stroke and tangle discreetly between them.

If the others notice - they don’t say a thing.


	2. Setting the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, in reality, levelling the playing field is not a wise decision - because now they know. 
> 
> They know without a shadow of a doubt that they both want each other.
> 
> So sure, perhaps they are both on even ground, but it has created a bigger problem, because what they have most certainly done now is shuffle the line that had been drawn a few steps in a different direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, it's good to get this one out. Massive thank you to my beta - what would I do without you?
> 
> Heads up - there's some sex. Which btw I fully intended to gloss over, then this happened. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

As it turns out, in reality, levelling the playing field is not a wise decision - because now they _know_.

They know without a shadow of a doubt that they both _want_ each other. She knows precisely how his tongue tastes against hers. He knows exactly how soft her skin feels against his fingertips beneath her shirt. She knows how perfect he feels pressed up firmly against her. He knows the sound she makes when moaning wantonly into his mouth. Worst of all, they share the very dangerous knowledge that apparently it takes is less than a minute to go from a tantalising kiss to being prepared to go all in _._

_Less than a minute._

If Daniel and Teal’c hadn’t shown up to interrupt the heated moment, there would most certainly be a much longer catalogue of the things they should not know about each other.

So sure, perhaps they _are_ both on even ground, but it has created a bigger problem, because what they have most certainly done now is shuffle the line that had been drawn a few steps in a different direction.

He has always flirted with her; mildly - enticing a little laugh here or a shy smirk there. It’s a game they indulge in every so often. But now, he can’t stop thinking about the flush of her cheeks, the way she nervously giggles and how much it affects him to see her smile, _for him_. So naturally, he wants to see it again… and again… and again.

It might actually be an addiction and shameless one at that. More importantly, they should be concerned about the ramifications of someone catching-on, but every time the opportunity arises he can’t seem to stop himself. He _has_ to see if he can pull it off - another smile, another giggle, another blush - something that despite all logic, apparently, _he_ can do to her; and she allows it.

 

The first time he walks into her lab post fantasy revelation, it’s the perfect opportunity - and to be fair, she kind of starts it.

Strolling through the door he finds her hovering over a naquadah reactor, deeply consumed in whatever the hell it is she’s doing with it.

When she looks up at him, his lips are quirked upwards at the scenario and a slow knowing grin spreads across her face before she purses her lips together in an attempt to smother it - it doesn’t work.

 _Before_ , they could get through a conversion without any of _this_ , but now, _now they_ _know_.

“We’re both aware of the dollar value of this particular device,” she says with a hint of disapproval in her voice.

How could he not pick at that bait? Really, it’s her fault.

There’s a glint in his eyes as he leans a shoulder against the door frame, “I’m not gonna lie, knowing how much it costs… would help do it for me.”

And there it is - that giggle - it’s perfect.

“Okay, price tag aside, if threw this on the floor it would explode.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“It wouldn’t just be... _sparks_.” He emphasises the word and makes little fireworks gestures with his hands.

“No, we’d both die.”

“Shame.”

“You know, I’m starting to think there is a jealously problem between you and my toys.”

Absolutely nothing can stop her eyes from immediately boggling at her own poor choice of words; just like he can’t stop the instant warm laugh that erupts from him.

The bright red flush spreads quickly from her cheeks all the way to the collar of her black shirt and presumably down her chest. He has hit the trifecta. Smile. Giggle. Blush.

“That came out wrong.”

He’s still chuckling, shaking his head. “Nope, I can’t beat that. I’m out.”

“It’s not what I meant,” she almost pleads her excuse out. Covering half her face with her hand, she can feel the telling burn of her cheeks against her palm.

“I can’t even remember what I came here for anymore,” he murmurs still grinning ear to ear. “I’ll come back.”

Sam watches him stuff his hands into his pockets and stroll right back out the door. As soon as he’s out of her sight she folds her arms over her desk and plants her face into it - embarrassed though oddly unable to wipe the smile from her face.

“I remembered,” his voice resounds again, clearly still amused.

Instantly she lifts her head and sits up, caught out by his hasty return.

“Lunch?” eyebrows raised in question.

They share a long look - the kind they really shouldn’t be sharing - before she answers, “Lunch sounds good.”

And the line moves another inch.

*

Their days soon become speckled with similar behaviour, nothing particularly overt. At first, the only notable difference is the frequency - but every time it happens, the line moves a fraction more and inevitably, the ante is upped.

After her little space race fun in the Loop of Kon-Garat, he discovers that she rode her motorcycle in before they’d gone off-world. Daniel feeds him the information - though he’s not sure why. Doesn’t matter though, because what he really wants to do is make sure he catches her in the parking lot on her way back out the mountain. It won’t take much doing since she has decided to park her Indian right next to him... interesting.

Leaning against his truck he waits for her. Eventually she approaches dressed in her leathers, carrying her helmet in one hand and her keys in the other. The first thought that crosses his mind is that she looks sexy as hell - the second is to question Daniel about the motive behind his intel sharing.

“So… since when you do ride your bike to work?” Casual; casual is key.

The smile she gives him makes the wait worth it.

“Since my other baby needs a service.”

Reasonable explanation.

He gives her a once over, looking her up and down with a grin. “I approve of the commute outfit.”

“I thought you might,” she smirks.

“Uh-huh. That why you parked right here?”

“Is this your truck?” she says coyly, feigning surprise.

Damn. They are outright flirting right now - thank God no one is around to see them.

She looks rather pleased with herself, which isn’t something he expected. He indulges in watching her as she straddles her seat, puts her helmet on and clips it up. Hot. Very hot.

“Your car doesn’t need a service does it?”

The only response she gives is a little shrug, her eyes twinkling as she arches an eyebrow before she flicks her visor down, kicks her kick stand up and revs the engine.

She tears off and he watches her go. Oh boy, he’s in trouble.

And the line moves another inch.

*

Once Jack is back from South America, Daniel is safe and well, and her father is back with the Tok’ra, they amble slowly through the corridors of the SGC to eat lunch together. Something that seems to have become more and more frequent - sometimes they forget to invite the others and sometimes they don’t. Either way lunch is almost always the time of the day they stop whatever it is they are doing and utilise the pre-text of food as an excuse to spend time together.

“So, apparently, you speak Spanish,” she starts lightly, voicing the revelation she’d been holding.

He shrugs, trying to feign nonchalance, completely unsurprised that Daniel couldn’t possibly keep that little tid bit of knowledge to himself. What a gossip.

“I didn’t know that about you,” she prods again smiling at him.

“I’m sure there are still lots of things you don’t know about me,” he replies intentionally mysterious.

“I’m sure there is,” she agrees, enjoying his playful tone. “Still, I can’t believe I’m the only one on the team that doesn’t speak a second language.”

He frowns as they round a corner. “What are you talking about, of course you speak a second language; you speak theoretical astrophysics.”

“That’s not a second language.”

“ _Trust me,_ it is.”

Looking behind her to check no one else is in earshot, she says quieter, “Okay, but Spanish is…sexy. Science isn’t sexy.”

She should absolutely not be trying to goad him into this; they’ve been doing whatever _this_ is for too long now. Every time they fall into this rhythm of flirtatious banter, her cheeks end up hurting delightfully from all the smiling.

“Trust me, _it is_.”

She chews her lower lip between her teeth as they both take their time turning into another clear corridor. “You want me to talk science to you?”

His eyes snap to hers, a huge grin on his face, he loves that she wants this as much as he does. “Can you explain how wormholes work again? You know the one with the apple and the worm…” he asks quizzically, making an ‘O’ with his thumb and fingers on one hand and points out his index finger on the other. The gesture is quite obviously crude.

She scoffs out a laugh, giving him an appalled look that she clearly doesn’t mean.

Still grinning as he walks beside her, he leans his head backwards to look up at the ceiling contemplating how much further he should take this one. Shaking his head, he says almost resigned, “Carter, in the right situation… I’d love to hear you _talk science_ to me.”

And the line continues to inch.

*

So it continues, and they allow it to, they flirt, they laugh, they eat lunch together and they both enjoy it far too much. The worrying part is that they’ve started to try and convince themselves that it’s _okay_. It’s okay because at least they aren’t in her kitchen with her legs wrapped around him. In the grand scheme of things, it must be a lesser crime to be doing this than it is to be doing that.

Right up until Prometheus and its entire crew goes missing and her along with it.

 

On the first day, he’s anxious though trying not to let it get to him.

Given that it has only been a few hours past overdue, he’s expecting that any minute now he’ll get an update from them with an explanation as to why they couldn’t maintain contact. It’s likely all is fine - Carter’s an excellent problem solver and she’s probably working through a problem right now.

Eating lunch alone proves difficult though and it’s not just because she’s not here this time. It’s because he’s not sure _where_ she is. He picks at his apricot chicken, trying hard to stay positive.

Any minute now.

*

On the second day, he’s added agitation to anxiety.

He’s short with Daniel and pretty much everyone and he knows how obvious he’s being - not that he can bring himself to care. She’s way past overdue at this point and no one has a damn clue where she is or what the hell has happened to them.

He hates that Daniel is still trying to be so optimistic. It seems like he and everyone else isn’t feeling as stressed about this as he is and it’s pissing him off. Actually, it’s not because they aren’t stressed, because he knows they _are_ , rather it’s _him_ incapable of being the commanding officer his role demands of him. It has become too personal; that damn inching line.

Daniel gives him knowing looks and he’s smart enough to have sensed the dynamic changes between them. So, he damn well isn’t going to discuss it with him, instead he spends the day blatantly ignoring him.

He sits in the commissary, feeling oddly closer to her here than anywhere else. He flicks through the list of planets they have been assigned to start checking.

He doesn’t eat any lunch.

*

On the third day, he’s angry.

He’s angry with himself and he’s angry with her. They shouldn’t have been doing this and _this_ is exactly why. When she comes back, he’s putting a stop to it. If he can’t keep his head in the game than what the hell else is he going to be good for?

After another mission bust, he’s fed up with the planets they are checking, that seem to be a list comprised solely of dead ends.

In the locker room as he’s stomping about in his bad mood - worried and restless - Teal’c calls him out on it.

Teal’c helpfully reminds him that last year he was missing for a month with Maybourne. Then discloses during that time she _despaired_ at the thought of never seeing him again.

He wonders if that’s what he’s really feeling… despair.

*

On the fourth day, he hasn’t slept a wink.

Haunted by Teal’c words, he starts to think seriously about how he might never see her again. He finds himself changing his mind completely - deciding instead that if she comes home he’s going to find a way to be with her already.

Probably cottoning onto the fact that he’s completely lost his appetite, Teal’c and Daniel both encourage him to eat lunch with them. The way they glance between him and each other doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh stop it already,” he grouches. “I _know_. I _get it_.” Glaring from one to the other, he pushes his seat back from the commissary table collecting his briefing notes. “See you when we’re geared up, once you’re done making eyes at each other.”

 

“Jack…” Daniel starts, arms folded across his chest.

Damn, he’s been cornered in the locker room getting ready. “Not you too,” he mutters stuffing his jacket into the locker. Noting that Daniel has that annoyingly patient and determined look about him - the kind he gets when he’s happy to stick it out for as long as it takes to get what he wants; and in this instance it’s probably a meaningful conversation with him.

“Are you going to be able to do this today?”

“What my job? Please, this will be a cake walk - we won’t find anything and we’ll be back here in a few short hours.”

“Something’s different,” Daniel states.

“This isn’t the place.” No sense denying it. No sense discussing it though.

“An empty locker room, with no cameras or co-workers?”

“Fine - this isn’t the time.”

“What’s changed?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s definitely not nothing; it’s definitely a whole lot of something. You’ve both been acting differently ever since Danthiam.”

He hates how damn perceptive Daniel can be, to narrow it down to such a fine point; when he shouldn’t be the wiser in the first place.

“Are you sleeping together?”

“ _No._ ” Not a lie. “And stop talking like that for God’s sake.”

“Okay, fine I’ll stop talking if you stop acting like Teal’c and I don’t care - because we do. She’s our friend too.”

He hears the hint of anger in Daniel’s voice and maybe a little hurt. He knows that Daniel of all people would do almost anything for his friends, and he doesn’t mean to be such an ass about this, he really doesn’t, but this isn’t a conversation he’s ready to have - not here and not right now.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

*

On the fifth day, there’s relief.

First, when they finally hear from them. Second, when watching her sleep in the infirmary, safely back home.

The relief then starts to lift making way for a tidal wave of tiredness. Exhausted from worry, the constant overthinking and the actual lack of sleep, he just wants to go home and rest - except he wants to be here when she comes to.

He marvels at how her beautiful brain managed to save an entire crew from captivity. She also saved their best ship and her own life from total destruction, all while under the strain of a massive concussion. He’d been going greyer and while she was saving asses. She’s kind of incredible.

Sam’s eyes flutter open. He hears his given name on her lips and he’s excited and saddened by it. He corrects her, and he wants to tell himself that he doesn’t know why, but he does. He is no closer to knowing what to do about the situation they seem to have found themselves in. It’s not fair to call her out on her lack of honorific - her head is muddled - but until he’s brought himself a clue he should err on the side of professionalism.

Keeping the rest of the conversation light, he then makes a quick exit and heads home.

Finally hitting his own bed, he finds that he sleeps - it’s just that he doesn’t find the rest he’s after.

Their inching line has blurred, and he doesn’t know where it is anymore.

*

The late Saturday afternoon sunset filters through the blinds and curtains of his living room, flooding the space with lines and angles that will soon dim and disappear completely.

His mood is dark as he sits solemnly on his couch, slowly drinking down a Guinness and contemplating what the hell he’s doing with his favourite second in command. He’s torn. Half of him wants to end it, stop and go back to how it was, because really that was easier. The other half wants to tell that first half to go screw itself. Because he’s sure he’s in love with her and he can’t stand the thought of either one of them dying before they ever get to at least _try something._

Meanwhile, they sit in this ridiculous space in between, not really choosing one or the other. They can’t stay like this; the problem is he doesn’t know which way to go.

Talking to her about it would be wise because she’s the smartest person he knows, and she probably has an opinion about all this too. Though, he’s never really been good at the talking thing and there’s a good chance he’ll say something wrong and fuck it up completely.

So here he is, brooding in a room that matches his mood to perfection. He’d been staring at his car keys on the coffee table, considering if he should put his beer down, get in his truck and go talk to her. Or, finish his beer and drink another, so driving to her won’t be an option anymore.

 

“Screw it.” He put his bottle down, snatches up his keys and stalks out of his living room to the front door. As he swings it open forcefully he almost collides with the woman who has his head wrapped in knots and lets out an ironic huff of a laugh.

She looks at him nervously; her arm is raised in a knock that she didn’t have the chance to make. “Hi… how long have you known I was standing here?”

“I didn’t,” he replies and then frowns thoughtfully. “How long have you been standing here?”

“Uh, not long.” Liar. She glances down at the keys in his hand, “I’m sorry - you’re going out. I can go.” Wouldn’t it be nice to have a reasonable excuse to make a quick exit?

“No, I wasn’t,” he denies. He sees her furrow her brow in confusion, then look from his eyes to the keys in his hands and back again. “Well, no, I mean I was, but… I was thinking about maybe going to see you so…”

“Ah…” she nods awkwardly in understanding. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he opens the door wider for her and she hesitantly comes inside. She’s wearing a denim skirt and a top with thin straps that do nothing to cover her shoulders. It’s not that it’s risqué in any way - it’s just that there’s a lot more exposed skin than he’s used to seeing, which seems like a terrible distraction.

“Do you think we could talk?”

God, she looks tense. He swallows hard and gives a nod that he hopes looks less uneasy than he feels. “You want a beer?”

The last time they had a beer together, things escalated fairly quickly. She wants a very clear head for this - even though she could at least do with something to hold. “Uh, no - that’s okay.”

Leading her to his living room he tries not to read into the fact that no beer probably means she’s not planning on staying. “In the interest of disclosure you should know I’ve had like, half of one already,” he tells her, sitting back down on his couch and tossing his car keys back on the coffee table.

Sam takes a seat, not too close, and turns herself to face him. Clutching her hands in her lap, she presses and twists her fingers together in order to relieve the anxiety tingling there. She supposes she should start, since she’s the one who came here. “So… is this our new base line now?”

“Baseline? I thought it was inching line?

She looks at him confused.

“Never mind. Is what our new base line?”

“You know - flirting and being reckless with the rules. Before, we wouldn’t do that.”

“Before...” he murmurs.

“Before… we kissed,” she clarifies.

“I know what _before_ meant.”

“So… Is that something we do now?”

“Apparently.” That’s it - he needs the beer back, reaching to retrieve it from the coffee table.

Sighing, Sam looks away. It’s clear he either doesn’t want to talk or doesn’t know what to say.

“Look, Carter…” He hesitates, because he really doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. “I don’t know what the hell we’re doing. I don’t. I just… I can’t seem to stop myself.” The least he can do is be honest with her.

She looks back at him, her expression softening with understanding. “I didn’t say I wanted you to.”

“Then what are you saying?”

That’s a good question. “I hallucinated on Prometheus, a lot actually. You were there.”

“If this leads to sharing another fantasy, I already know how this ends…” he quips.

“No. Not like that … _well_ …” she reconsiders thoughtfully and then changes her mind again, “No, not like that.”

“Okay…”

“Are you unattainable?”

The surprise on his face is evident. “Am I unattainable? Sam… we were kissing in your kitchen.”

Shaking her head minutely, she’s not being clear enough. “I need to know if this goes anywhere,” she swallows. “Or if this is our new normal.”

“Sam-”

“If I quit would it make a difference?”

His response is instant and firm. “I would never ask you to give up your career.”

She lets out a huff, surprised and all together not surprised at how his words mirror the ones hallucination Jack told her on the Prometheus.

Watching her look around the room in thought, he notes that her eyes seem sad and it pains him to know that any of this might be hurting her.

“It was simpler before, wasn’t it? When we didn’t really know?” her voice whispering a truth she wouldn’t have expected.

“Yeah, it was,” he agrees softly.

Pressing her eyes closed, unsure if she should continue towards the place she wanted this conversation to go. “There is so much going on right now - I can’t quit - neither can you.” It’s a fact, they know that. Her voice cracks, “We’re supposed to be selfless, but I’m tired of waiting and I want to be selfish.”

He rubs his fingers across his mouth in a subconscious movement of worry, wondering how long this has been playing on her mind. “I know. I’ve been debating with myself, thinking about if we should just stop doing whatever it is we’re doing.”

“You want to stop?” she says sounding alarmed.

“If you asked me to I would. Not that you should have to ask.”

Goosebumps erupt over her skin and there’s a hollow pit in her stomach that’s pulling at her insides. She can feel her heart hammering away in chest with anxiety, because she knows she’s going to say it and never in her entire adult career did she ever think she would be in this position, not her.

“I don’t want to stop… couldn’t we…” she can feel her lower lip tremble. “Would you ever consider… keeping it secret?”

Tilting his head, he gives her a weary look. “You deserve better than that.”

“I want you. I don’t know else to do.” The prickle in her eyes tells her she’s on the verge here.

“That’s complicated,” he says warningly.

“It’s not already?”

“Different kind of complicated,” he punctuates with a nod.

“So you wouldn’t?”

“I didn’t say that. This is…” he releases and slow breath from between his lips. “This has always been about you. There’s a lot to consider.”

“But you’d think about it?”

He wants to laugh at her, because it’s kind of sweet that she thinks _he’s the_ _good one_ out of the two of them.

“I’m saying _you_ should think about it. Me… I’ll do whatever it is you want, either way.”

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” she breaths out, nodding at him.

Clearly she’s already started; he can see her mind turning over into analytic mode.

She thinks about what a strange turn of events these past few months have been. How if nothing had happened to her on Danthiam, they probably wouldn’t be sitting here, discussing breaking the regulations that they use to be able to tow the line to. Life’s funny like that… except she’s not laughing.

“I should go then.”

“Okay,” he agrees putting his beer back on the table, getting up off the couch as she does. He asks himself if this really happened; if he really agreed to have - for all intents and purposes - an affair with her, if she wanted to. And she’s thinking about it, because she wants him as much as he wants her.

He walks her to the door silently and she realises that honestly, she’s been considering this for months - and never more so than this past week. She does want to love, and she does want to be loved. She’s certain this man - who has devoted his whole life to the air force but would risk it all for her - loves her. The only thing stopping her is letting go of everything that’s been holding her back.

Watching his hand turning the door handle and pulling it open a fraction beside her, his body right behind hers, she promptly shuts it again with a firm press of her hand. “So, I’ve thought about it,” she rushes out, turning around so she’s facing him in the intimate space between the hard wood of the door and him. She reaches for his other hand; bring it to her lips and planting a kiss in the centre of his palm, before pressing it flush against her cheek, spreading his fingers with hers and holding it there.

His eyes turn dark at the look she gives him and he feels a jolt of arousal hum through his veins from the touch of her quick fingers, soft lips and warm cheek. “Are you sure?” his voice strained with desperation and the awareness of how much he wants her to say yes.

Her expression is equally telling and there’s a tremble of excitement in her steady answer, “Yes. _Positive._ Kiss me?”

Quickly cupping her face between both hands, he closes the space between them, meeting her mouth in a bruising kiss before she can think about changing her mind. His tongue swipes over her lips, demanding access that she immediately gives, and he kisses her fiercely - revelling in sound that escapes her as he does.

She’s missed his taste and the way he kisses her with abandon, like he is worried she might disappear if he stops. As she whimpers at the feel of his tongue against hers, she knows then that all the flirting and mischief have been a way of filling a void that was left after she was denied him the first time, and that _this_ is what she’s been chasing - him, all of him.

He slows their frantic pace; teasing her lips with nips and soothing licks as they break apart for some much needed air.

“So how does this work? Do I take you on out on a date?” he asks, grazing his nose along hers, still breathing her in and threading his fingers through her hair.

“I don’t really think you can take me _out_ on a date,” she acknowledges, giving him a shy smile as she toys with the bottom of his t-shirt.

“Okay true, but I could buy dinner and bring it somewhere - your place or mine,” he offers, watching his thumbs circle along her jaw and down her neck, exploring the flush that’s starting there.

Slipping her fingers beneath his shirt, she presses her hands flat against his stomach then grazes them around his sides to his back, encouraging him closer still. “Would you think less of me if we went to your bedroom now and then ordered take out later tonight?”

Um, has any man _ever?_

“Isn’t that more of a third date activity?” he asks with humour in his voice. He leans down to drag his mouth down her neck and across her shoulder, gently biting and tasting the expanse of skin that has been temping him since she walked through the door.

Her hands instantly move through is hair as she delights in the new sensation his mouth is creating - something they didn’t get around to last time - and she arches up against him. “Well if it makes you feel better, we can have dinner tonight - that’s the first date covered, then breakfast in the morning…”

He teases his way up the other side of her neck, until he can smile against her ear, “I see where you‘re going with this - after lunch time tomorrow we will have all the social etiquettes covered.”

She can feel and hear his smile before he tugs her earlobe between his teeth. “Exactly. Plus, I’m breaking all the rules for you anyway.”

He presses her flush against the door for another heated kiss. His fingers smooth temptingly up her thighs, gathering her skirt as he goes until he’s created enough practical space to manoeuvre his leg between hers, creating a pleasant pressure against her centre. She moans wantonly into his mouth, rolling her hips against him, feeling impossibly turned on.

She breaks from their kiss, taking in a ragged breath, before looking up at him with eyes clouded with lust. “God, please tell me there’s no visitors this time?”

His eyes reflecting the same need back at her, he releases his grip on her right thigh to reach for the lock on the door, turning it. “I’m not opening this for anyone, I swear.”

Grabbing her hips and pulling her away from the door, he leads her backwards towards his bedroom. He tugs at the hem of her top encouraging it up and off, discarding it in the hall as she almost frantically does the same to him. There’s a brief moment where they stop moving and pull back enough to admire all the new skin they’ve uncovered, and he spends most of that time distracted by the black lace bra that covers the last of her upper body.

Grabbing at his belt buckle she yanks him back into the moment so they can keep moving towards their destination. Both toe off one shoe and then the other, while his fingers find the zipper at the back of her skirt, dragging it down and then yanking at the denim, watching it fall to her bare feet.

Guiding her through the doorway of his bedroom he looks her up and down, taking in the sight of her in the matching black lace set she’s wearing, practically naked - covering only the really good bits - he’s suddenly in awe of her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breaths out, his eyes still roaming over her, feeling suddenly a little nervous.

She notes the hint uncertainty in his voice, amongst the admiration. “You okay?”

“You sure about this? I’m a lot older than you are.” There’s a lot of pressure here; years of imagining - too many years. He’s aged, and sure - she has too, but it’s not really the same.

“I’d noticed before now,” she jokes, pacing backwards with her hands pulling his, until the backs of her legs touch the edge of his mattress.

“I’m not just going grey up top you know,” he blurts out.

“Wow. That was subtle, I barely noticed you throwing that in there,” she says, trying hard not to laugh. It’s sweet that the man who oozed confidence when telling her his fantasy a few months ago could suddenly become so humanly self-conscious now.

“It’s true.”

She slides her hands up his arms, over his shoulders and then down his chest and abdomen until her nimble fingers start to undo his buckle. “Okay,” she starts, a gentle humour in her honest tone, “You’re panicking a little here so I’m just going to tell you now that - I already love you and I promise that I will also love every grey hair you have anywhere on your body.”

“Okay. That helps,” he nods, his voice more relaxed.

Her eyes stay fixed on his as she pops open the button of his khakis, unzips his fly and she slides her hand into the front of his pants, raking her nails over his cloth covered hardness and stroking him.

“That helps too,” he groans out, his hands gripping her almost bare hips tightly.

“Back with me?” she asks huskily.

“Yeah,” he affirms, his mouth meeting hers again, as she tugs his pants down until they pool at his feet.

He kicks them away and she immediately slips her hands into his underwear to clutch at his bare ass pulling him firmly against her so she can feel him straining between them.

Letting his hands roam over her body, he brushes his fingers down and up her sides, and then carefully slides the straps of her bra down, stroking the freshly nude patches of her shoulders. He trails the backs of his fingers against the insides of her arms and then caresses the sides of her breasts before circling his thumbs over her lace covered peaks. She arches into his touch, a soft whimper escaping her mouth, captured by his.

Tracing the edges of her bra behind her, he unfastens it and then spreads his hands over the expanse of her back. Tugging her hands away from his ass, he lets the offending lace fall free from her arms and she moves to lie back immediately. He watches her fascinated and enthralled by the sensual image of her laid out against his sheets.

He’s never seen her eyes look so dark before, she’s sinful and perfect. Her breasts heavy and full, and he can see her hips are starting to rock slightly on their own volition against something that isn’t there yet - he has to have her, has to know what she feels like around him. He’s never wanted someone more than this in his entire life and he briefly wonders if that’s because he’s never loved someone _before_ taking them to bed.

He trails his fingers from her ankles and up her calves, dragging his hands firmly over her thighs until his fingers loop around the fabric at her hips.

She closes her eyes, taking a sharp breath in as he quickly tugs her panties down her legs and tosses them to the floor. Just like that she’s naked for him.

“Fuck,” he groans, taking the sight of her in.

Then an awful realisation hits him as he rakes his eyes over naked form. “I hate to say it, but I’m realising just now that I don’t have any protection here.” This is so not the right time to be remembering this fact.

“I’m on depo so unless there’s something important you need to disclose - I want to feel all of you.”

“I say again - _fuck._ ”

She watches him push his underwear down and off, admiring him she lets out a pleasurable sigh as he stops his shameless viewing of her and leans his body over hers.

Resuming his exploration of her creamy skin at her hips, skipping over the place she wants him the most, instead caressing over her stomach towards her breasts. He places a kiss in the valley between them, teases his way up her chest and neck with his lips, tongue and teeth before he reaches her mouth and kisses her deeply.

She gropes at his back, urging him on as he finally kneads at one of her breasts, humming as he teases a nipple with his clever fingers, the sensation shooting heat instantly down between her legs.

He stops kissing her so he can listen to the sounds escape her beautiful lips. Immediately wanting to hear more, he moves down to take her pebbled peak into his mouth as he works at her other with his free hand. Feeling her lustful sounds vibrate through him as her fingernails scrape through his hair, he lets it go with a pop to quickly treat the other with the same tantalising torment as she moves against him desperately. It’s both incredibly satisfying and erotic to see, feel and hear her like this for him - and he thought making her smile and blush was addictive; this is so much better.

“Jack, please, you need to touch me,” she begs, pulling at his hand to encourage him to move it down to where she desperately wants him.

Releasing her, he trails his mouth down her stomach to oblige and slide his fingers down between her legs, slipping them through her slick folds.

“Ohh God,” she whimpers at the feel of his touch in the place he’s not supposed to ever think about, let alone explore.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, dropping his head to her hip and trying to regain some semblance of composure as she makes all kinds of unforgettable noises, rocking against his hand, trying to tempt his fingers inside her or touch her _there._

Relenting quickly to her eagerness, he circles the pad of his thumb over her bundle of nerves and eases one finger and then another inside her, curling them up as he strokes her methodically. She moans for him unrestrained, her fingers clutching desperately at his shoulders as he teases her endlessly. The very male voice inside his head can’t wait to hear what noise she makes when it’s him pushing into her instead of his fingers.

“Can I taste you?” he asks mouth open against her hip, swirling his tongue there. He can feel her clench around his fingers at the question.

“I’d love that but I need you inside me, _right now_ ,” she demands firmly, no room for negotiation.

He definitely wasn’t finished with her yet but she sounds pretty damn sure and they’re both keyed up and she is oh-so-ready. So instead he withdraws his fingers from her and climbs back up her body, positioning himself between her thighs to grant her wish. He locks his eyes with hers, and then he slips his hardness through her wet centre a few achingly deliberate times before he slowly and carefully enters her.

His groan is immediate and loud, and her expression is a perfect picture of pleasure as she almost sobs out her moan for him.

“Ohhh God, _fuck yes_ , Jack!” She feels him stretch and fill her, her muscles clenching delightfully at him as he slides gradually and deeply into her.

It’s positively the most sexually satisfying moment of his life. He has never heard his brilliant astrophysicist second curse that way or say his name quite like that, and he knows she can’t stop herself. He is _never ever_ going to forget the way her voice shakes and her body trembles as he fills her for the first time.

“You feel perfect, Sam. So fucking perfect,” he groans letting her adjust to him before beginning to find them a rhythm that has her ohhing.

They make love until she can’t think anymore she can only _feel_. Feel his firm body stretched over her, his warm mouth, teeth, tongue, lips and stubble as he drags over her sensitive skin. His thrusts inside her willing body as he rocks against her. His skilled hands as they tease every inch of her and slip between her legs to touch the place that will undoubtedly make her come undone.

Her kisses become frantic and unsteady until she can no longer keep them up, and instead loses herself to his measured stokes and his faultless fingers circling at her knowingly. Her voice is replaced by a constant throaty hum that she can’t contain.

When he senses her height approach he tries to memorise every nuance of her body and sound. “That’s it, come for me,” he urges her on. She is a vision of unadulterated sex as she begs him with a sob to please never stop.

He increases his pace as he feels her insides tighten tellingly around him, her legs shaking at his waist, her toes curling into his calves and her hands clutching at his back frantically.

Her head lulls back into the pillows and she lets out a pitched cry of ecstasy with what she thinks might be an, _I love you_ thrown in amongst the nonsensical noises that spill from her.  

Loosing himself in the sounds she makes and her body’s primal reactions - that he’s responsible for - he stops holding back and starts to seek his own need. The familiar pull begins, expands, and then races through him, his pace faltering as he comes spectacularly inside her with a deep groan.

“God, Sam,” he grits out trying to draw the pleasure out for them both with a few more irregular thrusts before he finally stills - spent.

“Wow,” she finally manages as he becomes a wonderfully heavy weight on top of her.

“Wow,” he agrees, from the crook of her neck catching his breath.

Eventually he lifts his head to place an affectionate gentle kiss on her lips, then carefully withdrawals and rolls off her, onto his side turning her to face him.

“I love you, you know. You’re kind of amazing,” he admits, thinking he should have said it earlier.

“You’re-” she pauses smiling, thinking back to the fantasy he revealed to her, “You’re big and the best I’ve ever had.”

“Case in point,” he says plainly, “I love that you remembered that and I don’t even care if you’re lying.”

She giggles at him and he loves hearing it as he sits up a little to manoeuvre the covers over them both.

“So...” he says, stroking his hand down the length of her arm all the way to her fingers, tangling them with his.

“So?”

“I have a big first date tonight that I need to get ready for.”

“Me too. I have to find something to wear.”

“Oh, I’m sure we can find something around here somewhere.” He lifts his head to look for her clothes, his eyes adjusting to the dim light in the now almost dark room. “Or not. Clothing optional.”

*

On their first date, he orders chinese, delivered.

He makes the order while she’s in the shower. When he hears her bare feet pad into the kitchen behind him, he turns to finds her back in the skirt and top she arrived in, hair damp and tousled and her face glowing. 

“You look great,” he grins at her.

“Well I spent forever getting ready and choosing an outfit, so thank you,” she jokes.

“You won’t be under or overdressed for where I’m taking you, so you don’t have to worry.”

“What a relief - where are you taking me?” She plays along as he moves closer to her.

“For a first date? A nice but not too flashy restaurant with a relaxed atmosphere; I wouldn’t want to seem like I’m trying too hard to impress you or make you nervous.”

“Very thoughtful of you.”

“Lucky for me, they deliver,” he holds up a menu to Wong’s.

“I know full well that’s not the place you’re describing.”

“You’ll have to use your excellent imagination.”

 

As far as first dates go, it’s perfect. There’s no tension and no trying too hard. It doesn’t matter that they aren’t out at a restaurant somewhere, because it’s not about the where, it’s about the who - and the company is what really counts.

They watch but don’t watch whatever movie is playing on TV. They switch their take out boxes when they are half way through. When they are finished he hands her one of two fortune cookies.

“Ladies first.”

“These are silly,” she says grinning as she takes it, snapping it open and reading out the paper, “ _The fortune you seek is inside another cookie._ ”

“Lucky I have all the answers in this one.” He opens his holding away from her so she can’t read it, “Hmm. _Sometimes it’s better to give_ and _to receive_ ,” he says suggestively. “Apparently the cookie doesn’t know this is a first date… but who am I to argue with a cookie?”

“It does not say that,” she giggles trying to swipe it from him.

He holds it further away from her reach, “Carter, the cookie doesn’t lie. It’s a _clever cookie_. And if you read it, it won’t come true.”

“That’s not how it works - it’s not a birthday candle.”

He relents and finally lets her have it when she's almost completely leaning across him.

“ _Something wonderful is about to happen to you_ … I think you may have embellished on this a little,” she chides him amused.

“Perhaps a little creative licence was used.”

“Little bit,” she indicates with her fingers. “Does line this usually work for you?”

“I can’t say I’ve tried it before, but so far this is a perfect date so I think I like my chances.”

“So, how would you usually end a first date?” she asks coy.

He stands up and offers out his hand and she takes it.

“It’s been a long time, but I’m fairly sure most stuff hasn’t changed. I would drive you home and walk you to your door,” he says, holding her hand and walking her towards his entry.

Smiling wide she lets him lead her to his front door, until he stops and stands in front of her, holding each of her hands in one of his.

“And then, if I thought we both had a good time, I would try my luck for a kiss and then ask when I could see you next.”

“I did have a good time and I definitely want to see you again,” she says softly, still smiling as she shifts closer.

Watching her eyes flutter closed, he leans down and brushes his lips over hers.

“Are you free for breakfast tomorrow morning?” he asks.

“I am.”

“Excellent.”

“Are we going to talk about how this is all going to work?”

“You mean the serious stuff?”

“Yeah, that stuff.”

“Yes, tomorrow. I need to think about a few things…”

“And you do your best thinking…?”

“While giving and receiving.”

“Of course you do.”

*

On their second date, he makes her eggs.

He flips the omelette over in the frypan when she makes her appearance, dressed in a flannel button down shirt she’s clearly raided from his closet.

“I love what you’ve picked out for our second date - don’t change anything,” he says approvingly, looking up and down her long legs.

Smirking she moves over to him so she can lean up for a kiss. “You making me breakfast?” Such a gentleman.

“My world famous omelettes,” he explains, letting his fingers smooth up her thighs and under the oversize shirt to find she’s not wearing anything under it. “You should keep this, it looks better on you.”

“I can’t find my clothes.”

“You don’t need them.”

She gives him a pointed look.

“I believe the trail starts at the front door, but this is ready so you’re just going to have to stick with what you’ve got. Sorry.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes.”

She lets him have this one, since clearly it’s doing something for him. They eat eggs, toast and hot coffee made the way she likes it.

“So, have you had enough quality thinking time?” She smirks, moving their conversation in the direction she feels they need to go in.

“I would never say no to more,” he quips, before changing his tone. “This is going to be complicated - and it’s not always going to be as easy as this feels right now.”

“I know.”

“We can’t be seeing each other everyday, it’s too risky. We can maybe do a day at yours and a day at mine, and not the same two days each week. We’d have to change it up.”

“Okay.”

“And the cars are a problem,” he indicates in the direction of her car that parked in his drive way.

“Yeah, I thought of that too. I can pick you up and you can pick me up?”

“Okay.”

“This isn’t going to be a problem at work right? We can’t bring this there - not at the base or off world.”

“I promise to behave myself; nothing but my usual upmost professional self at work. It’ll be up to you to not picture me naked while I do that,” he assures her, watching her shake her head at him and smile. “Carter, the way I see it - if anything we are fixing a problem.”

“Really?” Still amused and sounding unconvinced.

“We won’t be worried about crossing the line anymore. We we’re getting worse and more obvious. Now we won’t need to - we can save it all up for home time.”

“Ah, I see - by crossing the line, we can stay away from it.”

“Exactly.”

“We’re problem solving.”

“And you are the best problem solver I know, so if this is sounding solid to you then I’m all for it.”

“It makes perfect sense. No more problems.”

“Not as long as we’re careful.”

“And no one else knows.”

*

On their third date, he’s late - and so is she, since they’re curled up in bed sleeping after another sex induced coma.

When he wakes, he carefully untangles himself from her, gets dressed so she can keep sleeping. He can’t remember the last time he had this much sex in such a short amount of time. If she wants to give him a heart attack, she’s going the right way about it. They should have done this years ago.

He sees her stirring and leans down to kiss her.

“Food?” she asks.

“On to it.”

“Mmm.”

“Look at you, all one syllable words and sounds. It’s good to know I can reduce you to this.”

“So, where are we going for our third date?” she asks, stretching out appealingly.

“I don’t want to you to get too excited,” he pauses for effect. “But how do you feel about Italy?”

“I’ve never been to Italy.”

“Then I’m going to take you there.”

She arches an eye brow at him, clearly disbelieving.

“Okay, I’m not, but I can order italian food.”

 

After they’ve eaten most of a pizza, she lays with her head on his chest as he’s stretched out on his couch watching a hockey game together. As the sun starts to set, she realises she’s now been here with him for twenty-four hours. What a difference a day makes.

“I should probably go,” she sounds resigned, burying her face into his shirt.

“You could stay,” he says softly, looking down at her and toying with her hair.

“What happened to all those sensible ground rules we talked about?”

“What were they? I forgot.”

Pressing a soft kiss to his lips she says affectionately, “Pick a day.”

“Wednesday.”

“Then I’ll pick you up Wednesday.”

“Wednesday it is,” he affirms returning her delicate kiss.

“This is good.”

“It is.”

Kiss.

“We’re solving the problem.”

“We are.”

Kiss.

“This is better.”

“I agree.”

Kiss.

They believe it - because they have to, because they want to, because there’s not really another choice anymore, because they _know_ and because they simply want to love.

*

Daniel and Teal’c catch up to them as they climb the stairs to the briefing room on Monday morning.

“Hey! Did you both have a good weekend?” Daniel asks, juggling his paperwork and a cup of coffee.

Sam smiles back at him as they all move to sit down. “Yeah - I solved a problem that’s been bothering me for ages.”

“I love when that happens,” Jack comments knowingly, taking a seat.

“I believe Dr Fraiser instructed you to ‘take it easy’,” Teal’c says disapprovingly.

“I did - I promise,” she assures him.

Daniel looks over to Jack, “How about you, what did you get up to?”

“I spent most of it in bed and ate too much take out… it was perfect.”

Hammond arrives and they start their meeting as they usually do on a Monday. The only difference is that two of them know a lot more about each now than they did the week before.

It’s not a problem though - because the line has finally stopped moving; the line is set.

 


	3. Touching Tells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don’t flirt at work anymore. That problem really is solved, or is it? Because now there’s touching. 
> 
> They don’t grope in the hallways or drag each other into storage closets; they just touch. A reassuring brush on the arm here, a lingering finger stroke there, standing a little too close or turning so they are always facing each other - as if gravity has them moving in sync.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. This is it! All finished! Thank you to everyone that has taken the time to leave comments and kudos - they all make me smile.
> 
> Thank you my marvelous beta. You're the best.

They don’t flirt at work anymore. That problem really is solved, or is it? Because now there’s _touching_.

They don’t grope in the hallways or drag each other into storage closets; they just _touch_. A reassuring brush on the arm here, a lingering finger stroke there, standing a little too close or turning so they are always facing each other - as if gravity has them moving in sync.

Apparently lunchtime is the worst, which makes a lot of sense - since it’s the most similarly domestic thing they can replicate from a home to work environment. Embarrassingly, they don’t figure this out themselves; Daniel and Teal’c have to tell them.

 

“So, we need to talk,” Daniel says lightly, entering her lab with Teal’c at his side.

It’s clear from the odd and somewhat uncomfortable expression on both their faces that this is a plot to corner them - closing the lab door is the final giveaway.

“We do?” She looks between them both intrigued.

“Indeed,” Teal’c gives his standard response.

“About what?” Jack asks, as Sam relieves his hands of the doo-hickey he’d been fiddling with since he came to see her.

“About the touching,” Daniel reveals, as if that’s the most obvious topic available.

“What touching?” they say in unison.

“These cameras don’t record sound right?” Daniel frowns looking up at the blinking light of the security camera in the corner.

“You’ve been here what, seven years? Give or take an ascended sabbatical. This is really the first time you’re asking that?”

“No they don’t.” Sam ignores Jack’s flippant comment as she shakes her head.

Daniel nods once, clearly doing the same. “So, here’s the thing; we know that there’s something going on between the two of you. And you don’t want to tell us; that’s fine - we _don’t_ want to know.”

“I believe ‘do not ask, do not tell’ is a popular philosophy in your military,” Teal’c adds supportively.

She stares at them utterly surprised and risks a glance over at Jack, who doesn’t seem to be giving anything away.

“You guys have expertly dialled down on pretty much every telling behaviour possible,” Daniel says, casually stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Except the touching,” Teal’c continues.

“We don’t touch. That’s ridiculous,” she denies, making a face. Touching? What touching?

“Uh, you do and it’s not,” Daniel debates.

“We have started counting.” Teal’c is somewhat amused by the conversation.

“Counting?” Jack repeats, unimpressed by the fact that they’re the subject matter of this little spur-of-the-moment meeting.

“Indeed.”

“I think the highest you’ve achieved was eight times - at lunch. That surprised even us. Teal’c was sure you’d never exceed six at any one time.”

Jack raises an eyebrow. However, if this is true, then they could have a problem on their hands - or in two sets of hands as it turns out. “Define _touching_ ,” he says plainly.

“Okay, sure, how about a demonstration. Teal’c?” Daniel asks, picking up a manila folder from Sam’s desk.

Teal’c inclines his head, taking the file from Daniel’s hands. “I shall be Major Carter. You may be O’Neill.”

“Okay, so this is how you used to hand each other a file,” Daniel begins, setting the scene.

“Carter, can I have that file?” Daniel says, playing Jack.

“Yes sir.” Teal’c hands Daniel the file, imitating Sam - not that he’s trying what-so-ever.

Okay, nothing special about that… except maybe the fact that their friends are playing a bizarre version of charades with them.

“And this is how you hand each other a file _now_ ,” Daniel hands the folder back to Teal’c. “Carter, can I have that file?”

“Yes sir.” This time, as Teal’c passes Daniel the file their hands touch, Daniel sliding his fingers over Teal’c’s. Then Daniel pats Teal’c on the arm once in thanks.

“Did you spot the difference?” Daniel asks facing them. “It’s subtle but it’s there.”

“You guys made that really weird,” Sam says quietly, somewhat horrified by the entire re-enactment.

“We could do another? Handing over a new clip to reload, passing each other MRE’s - lunchtime, guys, _lunchtime_ is like watching ‘The Sam and Jack Show’; _you have to stop_.”

“You have become particularly domestic with one another at mealtime, ” Teal’c states.

“We don’t do any of that.” Sam shakes her head, disbelievingly.

“No?” Daniel leans down and bends to the side to look under Sam’s lab bench, then straightens up. “Your boots are touching right now.”

Sam and Jack both look down and promptly shift their feet apart, looking both startled and uncomfortable at the revelation.

“The touching. Work on it,” Daniel surmises.

Teal’c bows his head as Daniel opens the lab door and they both leave.

“Well that was embarrassing…”

“For us or them?” she asks.

“Both.”

*

“So, Daniel and Teal’c know…” Jack starts, as they move around her kitchen cleaning up after dinner.

“Well… they don’t _know._ ”

He gives her a pointed look in return.

“Okay, so they know,” she sighs. She wonders how they worked it out so quickly - have they really been that obvious this past little while? It’s not like they’ve been at it that long and she really thought they’d done a fine job of keeping everything in line at work. “Should we be worried that we’re giving too much away without even knowing it?”

“If they’re little demonstration is anything to go by, we may have a problem at a level I’m not sure how to control.”

“Maybe it’s not as bad as they think? I mean, they know us better than anyone on the base - maybe they’re reading into it more than anyone else would?” she suggests, sounding hopeful.

“Maybe…”

“And maybe we should keep an eye on it…”

“Agreed.”

“They won’t say anything.” She feels suddenly guilty.

“No. They won’t, but I hate to put them in that position anyway,” he echoes her thoughts.

She nods at him, moving closer to lean up and give him a lingering kiss and wrapping her arms around him as he does the same. She likes how familiar he feels to her now. New, but familiar.

“I have a surprise for you,” she whispers against his neck.

“You do?”

“I do. I was saving it, but now seems like a good a time as any.”

“Colour me curious.”

“Give me a few minutes.” She gives him a final chaste kiss.

“Colour me _very_ curious.”

He waits for her on her sofa, toying with her remote controls, trying to remember which of the three does what. “Hey, you really need to get one of those universal remote… things…” he drops the remote without hesitation. His voice caught in his throat for a moment, as he looks up at her standing in front of him.

She’s in lingerie. _Very_ racy, _very_ lacy, lingerie. The kind that involves suspenders. It’s positively thrilling.

“I know which buttons to push,” she says seductively.

“Yeah you do...” he gulps, eyes wide and excited. “Is it my birthday?”

“No,” she smirks, slowly moving to straddle him but deliberately not making any actual contact with him yet.

His brain is short circuiting; trying desperately to tell his hands to pick a place to touch first. “Is it your birthday?” his eyes roaming over her - still undecided.

“No.”

“Well it must be someone’s birthday, ‘cause you look like something that needs unwrapping…” he utters, barely able to contain his eagerness. Settling, he smooths his hands down her sides to her hips.

“No.”

“No?” he quirks an eyebrow, fingers leisurely toying with the straps and skirting under the lace, “No I suppose not… it would be more fun to keep you in this.”

“Yes.”

He lets out a happy sigh, “Well you clearly have a vision of how this night goes, so I’m all yours.” He encourages her to lower herself down against him, so she can feel exactly how much he’s enjoying this already.

“No.”

“No?” he says surprised, thinking over his words, “Hmm... You’re all mine?”

She likes that he phrases that as a question. “Yes.”

“I like this game,” he says huskily, pulling her down to him for a heated kiss.

 

In the morning before the sunrises, he tries his hardest to convince her to wear the lingerie under her uniform as they get ready to part for work.

She says no, repeatedly, which is probably a good thing, since he’s sure it won’t help with the apparent touching problem they have developed.

*

At lunch they eat with Daniel and Teal’c in the commissary. Thankfully, no one is stupid enough to bring up the conversation from the day previous in such a public space. Sort of.

As they sit down next to each other their elbows touch, which promptly leads to Teal’c resounding what to anyone else would seem like a very random, “One.”

A smirk plays on Daniel’s lips, and Sam and Jack both shoot them dark expressions before shuffling carefully a little further apart.

Daniel helpfully starts asking about how Sam is going with the prototype weapon to use against Anubis’s cull warriors, which is enough of a distraction. She tells him that she and her father are due to catch up on the Alpha Site to work through the final calibrations together.

“Isn’t that soon?” Jack queries, and as soon he feels his fingers brush her arm with the question he regrets it.

“Two,” Daniel grins, forking salad into his mouth.

Jack smiles back sarcastically and gives him a look that could kill - not that it would stick anyway.  
  
“Yes, it is.” Sam continues tightly, returning to their previous topic of conversation.

Jack listens to her babble away about it - they’ve already discussed it at length. He doesn’t actually want to be reminded that he’s going to have to be without her for any period of time. Especially now that he knows there is spontaneous Victoria’s Secret available within his sex life.

Sam passes the Colonel the salt for his chicken knowingly and pinches a fry from his plate at the same time.

“That counts as two,” Daniel says quickly.

“Four.” Teal’c reminds them of the current tally.

She glares at him. “Two?”

“You can’t pass the salt without someone asking first and you can’t help yourself to someone else’s plate.”

Jack immediately takes a handful of fries from both Teal’c and Daniel’s plates in a huff. “Happy?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being aware of what we _all_ like,” she adds defensively.

“Exactly. No one gave me a second look when I bought the blue jello over,” Jack sounds annoyed.

“Is that not for you?” Teal’c questions hurriedly.

“No.”

“Five,” is Teal’c’s immediate response.

“I really thought you’d be better at it once we pointed it out,” Daniel is amused.

“Okay, that’s enough. You know what, you’re reading into this far too much - because you know us too well. We’re like family. Literally, _no one_ else is going to see what you’re seeing.” Jack puts an end to the conversation.

“No more counting, you’ve been more than helpful - thank you,” Sam finishes.

*

Her father has been driving her crazy this morning - and here she was looking forward to spending the rest of the time here with him.

She’d been working her ass off the past few days, calibrating the device to stop the reanimation process within Anubis’ drones. Up until right now, she’d been enjoying it. It’s refreshing to get away from the walls of the SGC and into a different environment, especially since she’s free to engross herself in the project without distraction. Admittedly, it’s also nice to know that if they can pull this off, it’s a victory that she managed even if she is sleeping with her commanding officer now. They can _do this_ and _do that_ and _it’s okay._

Jacob makes a remark about them never talking anymore, and she wonders what that’s supposed to mean. It’s not like they have much choice in the matter - her cell phone coverage doesn’t exactly reach him. And sure, her life has recently had some changes but it’s not something she could ever share with him. At least not under the circumstances anyway…

An alarm starts blaring and she no longer has the chance to dwell on it.

Shit hits the fan fast, and before she knows it, she’s separated from her father, unaware if he’s dead or alive. The Alpha Site base she had not long been considering refreshing is utterly obliterated by the self-destruct.

This is the definition of FUBAR.

*

She hurts everywhere. Her leg and arm are positively screaming at her. She wonders what she did to piss off whatever powers-that-be are out there, to be on the receiving end of so much physical pain lately. That _thing_ knows she has the device, she’s sure of it - which means she’s in serious trouble, injuries aside. She’s alive at least… that’s more than some can say.

Between stopping and going, she fights the urge to let exhaustion overwhelm her. She thinks back to how Jack had spent nine days broken post parachuting accident; he’d rescued himself from a non-sanctioned mission on the boarders of Iraq and Iran. If he could get through something like that by himself, then she could do this. She _can_ do this - she has him now and she’s going to get home to him.

She knows he’ll be worried; he’ll come for her. She can do this.

*

He feels like he was just doing this. Wasn’t he just doing this? Here he is again, trying to find her - only this time there’s the harsh reality that they’ve got a hell of a lot of people MIA and a self-destruct that’s clearly been detonated. The two don’t sit well to him. Unlike last time, he knows she was here… except there’s _nothing_ here. It’s not all that comforting.

Distinctly he remembers thinking about how he couldn’t stand the thought of either one of them dying before they had a chance to try something. Now he can’t stand the thought of either one of them dying now that they _have_ tried something. Because he loves the something; he loves her.

Seeing Jacob is a sight for sore eyes. Right up until he realises she is out there somewhere, being hunted down by one of those _things_.

It’s not just about finding her now. It’s about finding her _first._

*

She wants to touch him again, to be touched by him again. She wonders if the last time they were together, is actually going to be the last time they would be together. She supposes no one ever really knows when it’s going to be the last time. If that was theirs - at least it was memorable.

She won’t regret a thing; not asking him to cross the line with her, not the sex, not loving him and not letting him love her. No regrets.

Except for dying; she’d regret dying.

*

He thinks about how casually he said goodbye to her before she left, seems so stupid now. Now, he wants to hold her and tell her how much he loves that they’re together now. To tell her that they were utter idiots for too long and that he’s so fucking happy being with her now that it’s ridiculous; that sometimes he feels guilty for being allowed to be so happy again.

And he’ll make sure the goodbyes aren’t quite so causal.

*

What a short-lived win she had. MacGyver-ing a way to kill it before it killed her, and now here she is; too damn exposed, too damn tired and there’s no getting out of this one.

Until he comes for her; of course he comes for her.

He lets her rest and sits with her, and they finally touch.

And it’s enough.

*

He lets go of her so she can be attended to by the medical staff, watching her as best he can while they do the usual post mission checks on him. Waiting around until they are done, he nears her bed again - even though he’s been told to let her rest - and sneaks behind the curtain.

Her eyes meet his - tired and struggling to stay open - like she’s been waiting to see him again.

Standing beside her, he carefully and discretely takes her hand, squeezing it in his as she tangles their fingers together.

There’s a lot they both want to say but can’t say here. So, instead they look at each other with an open expression, as he touches the pad of his thumb to his lips. Then carefully and gently brushes it along the cut over her eyebrow before tenderly pressing it against her lips.

A kiss without a kiss.

Touching instead of talking.

The moment ends and she lets herself sleep.

*

“Thanks for bringing her home Jack.” Jacob says sincerely, as Jack finishes telling him about the rescue in his office.

“No problem.”

Jacob is looking at him differently.

“So, is there anything else you want to tell me?” Jacob adds, standing up.

“Nothing I can think of.”

“Nothing at all?”

“No…”

“So, we’re not going to discuss the fact that you’re sleeping with my daughter?”

Jack swallows hard, and waits just a little too long to look up at him with his best quizzical expression. He couldn’t wish more that he’d not let Jacob talk him into having this little chat in his own office and not the briefing room. He certainly wouldn’t have bought this up _there_ … though it’s quickly becoming clear as to why he would suggest his office in the first place.

“I saw the way you touched her in the infirmary. The way you looked at each other. Haven’t seen that before on either of you - and I’ve seen you both look. So, unless you’ve recently started to touch Teal’c and Daniel’s scrapes better while holding hands, I’d say it’s not your typical command style.”

His face falls, immediately. Shit.

“That’s more like it.” Jacob nods slowly. “I like you Jack-”

“Thank you.”

“I’m not finished.” Jacob gives him a look that tells him he should stop talking right now. “You’re a pain in the ass and I have no idea why she picked you. Though I’m not blind... she deserves to be happy.”

Well, he’s not sure why she wants him either, he really wants to tell Jacob that - but he knows he’s in one of those situations where he should really just keep his damn mouth shut.

“I bet your record is filled with reprimands, black marks and areas that are wiped out completely. Sam’s? Sam’s is perfect. That’s no accident, she worked hard for it. I don’t ever want to see her dragged through the mud. Do you?”

He’s not yelling, he’s not over the moon, but he’s definitely not yelling - and that’s certainly something. If he was to try and work out specifically how he sounds, Jack would say that he’s disappointed. Maybe that’s worse than angry. “No,” Jack finally answers.

“Then what the hell were you thinking, doing that here?”

Well, for starters that the curtain was shut, and secondly that her ex-air force General father wasn’t watching him, but maybe he should say something different. “She was hurt.”

“Don’t let that be an excuse for screwing up. It might not feel like it right now, but you’re damn lucky it was me that saw you and not someone else.”

He’s right. He doesn’t feel the slightest bit lucky. Maybe it needs a little more time…

“I’m not about to tell either of you what you can and cannot do - there’s a whole book to do that for you - you both understand the risks. But if you’re going to do this, then you either _do it better_ or you _do it right_. Do you understand?”

He nods minutely, until Jacob gives him a look - like he’s waiting for an actual verbal response.

“Yes sir.” He could not feel any smaller right now. Where’s an unauthorised ‘gate activation when you need one? Actually, that might not cut it; an earth invasion might.

“Good. I’m glad we had this chat. Now, I’m going to go check on my _only_ daughter, and you’re not coming with me, because you are going to remain a very professional distance from her for a little while… with a lot less touching.”

Damn it. Daniel was right. The touching - they do need to work on it.

*

They sit in her car, parked in her driveway. She’s finally been released and he’s damn pleased for it. It’s been an oddly quiet drive home, and he wants to talk to her now - before they start the rest of their evening.

He looks over to her, unsure of how to word this. “Whoever goes first - you know the other is going to be left very fucking broken, don’t you?”

She stares straight ahead, thinking about the weight of his words. “That’s the mark love leaves on us - at least that’s what my father used to tell me. I’ve known for a long time that love and pain eventually go hand in hand.”

“That’s depressing…”

“It’s true,” she finally looks over at him. “But I don’t regret any of this - even if one of us ends up a pile of broken pieces on the floor one day. As long as I get _this_ first...”

“That’s the spirit.”

“It’ll probably be me that’s the mess - since you’re older.”

He smiles at her, in a sad sort of way - appreciative of the added humour which he can cope with. “Ah, though recently you’ve been prone to disappearing and high risk scenarios. Maybe it will be me.”

“This is a very disturbing conversation.”

“Yes it is.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

And with that he climbs out of her car, rounds to her side to open her door and help her out.

She leans her weight onto him as he helps her towards the front door. “Are we going to talk about how you’ve sort of been avoiding me?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“Well we can, but I was sort of hoping to ply you with a little wine first.”

“I’m not supposed to drink on these painkillers.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t.” He unlocks her door and helps her inside.

“Come on; just tell me what’s going on.”

He really did want to loosen her with some alcohol first - he’s a little worried she might freak out. “Your dad may have… had a _chat_ with me.”

“About?”

“About my over use of affectionate touching with you in the infirmary.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. ‘Oh’.”

“He didn’t say anything to me.”

“Well course not, you’re his ‘only daughter’, he loves you. Me on the other hand…”

“What did you tell him?” He can hear the slighting edge of panic in her voice. This is where the alcohol would have come in handy.

He guides her to the sofa, urging her to very carefully sit down. “Honestly, I didn’t say much… but he definitely knows.”

“Great. So, we’ve gone from no one knowing to Daniel, Teal’c _and_ my father knowing.”

“Anyone would think we are bad at keeping a secret,” he quips.

“Did he scare you?”

“I called him _sir._ And it wasn’t a ‘general of the air force’ _sir_ , it was an ‘I’m sleeping with your daughter’ _sir_. There’s a definite distinction... It’s been a while since I wanted to ground to open and swallow me whole.”

“I lost my prom date this way.”

“I can see why,” he says plainly.

“I can’t believe he didn’t say anything to me. What else did he say?”

“A bit of this, a bit of that…” he says vaguely gesturing with his hands, before adding seriously. “He told me to either ‘do it better or do it right’.”

Her eyes widen in disbelief. “He said that?”

“Trust me. I wouldn’t make this stuff up.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“He must like you…”

“I couldn’t come down on a definitive side either way...” he says, and plops down next to her.

“Well, at least you can say you’re right,” she says, trying to recover from this news.

“About?”

“You did say that literally no one outside of family would notice.”

“Don’t think that didn’t cross my mind.”

*

She’s starting to feel the sharp twinges of pain return as she rests her head on his shoulder, watching television after finishing up dinner.

“How’s the arm?” he asks, toying with her fingers.

“Better than the leg.”

He promptly stands up and heads to the kitchen for a glass of water and her prescription.

She’s smiles up at him as he hands them to her to take. For a long time she’s been taking care of herself after being injured - and for once it’s actually kind of nice to have someone else take care of her.

He places the glass on her coffee table and offers his hands to help her up. “I can help you shower.”

“Really?” She smiles at him.

He smiles back boyishly. “You want me to wash your hair?”

Leaning against him, allowing him to keep her steady, she presses a tender kiss to his lips. “You’re really sweet sometimes you know.”

“Ah, you say that now, but you don’t realise how much shampoo is going to get in your eyes.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

*

Once they are in bed, after he’s propped one pillow under her injured leg and another to support her arm, he tucks her into him as best he can. He wants to touch as much of her as possible without hurting her.

Taking comfort in just _being_ together, they relax in a few long quiet moments of listening to each other’s breathing.

Her voice breaks through the darkness of her room. “So, when my Dad is visiting, and it’s my turn to stay at your place - you’ll let him sleep in your guest room right?”

He can _hear_ her smiling. “Sure. He can sleep in the guest room. You can sleep in my room. And I’ll sleep at Daniel’s so he doesn’t murder me in my sleep.”

She giggles and presses her face into his shirt.

When she’s almost asleep, feeling safe and warm in his arms, she hears him.

“Hey Sam?”

“Mm?”

“We will do it better.”

“Yeah, we will,” she agrees voice foggy.

They fall asleep, curled up carefully into each other, sleeping deeply, restful and at ease and with no regrets.

And they _do_ do it better.

And one day they do it right.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I like to think that from here on out you could _kind of_ watch the remainder of the series and not be able to tell that these crazy kids are together (okay, so the Pete story line is out, but other than that...) - which is exactly how I wanted this to go.


End file.
